David Hayter

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The year is 1985. The Cold War rages on. While serving his fifth consecutive term in the Oval Office, President Richard Nixon contemplates nuclear assault against an aggressive Soviet Union. Elsewhere, an egomaniacal villain unleashes a mysterious threat that promises to decimate several of the world's major cities. Help, meanwhile, is not on the way. The masked superheroes who used to protect our crumbling society are in exile, banned by Congress from practicing what's now believed to be vigilante justice. And our nation's top weapon -- a sky-blue, radioactive superbeing nicknamed Dr. Manhattan (Billy Crudup) -- has fled to Mars following a fight with his longtime girlfriend. He peacefully sits and contemplates whether humanity is worth saving.

Originally published by DC Comics in 1986, Watchmen is an anti-superhero diatribe set in a hellacious alternate universe imagined by writer Alan Moore (V for Vendetta) and artist Dave Gibbons. Twelve individual issues were bound into a graphic novel in 1987, and have been worshipped ever since by serious comic enthusiasts who consider Watchmen a watershed moment in the ongoing fight to legitimatize the art form. Depending on which timeline you follow, Hollywood has spent the better part of the last 20 years trying to adapt Moore and Gibbons' magnum opus from page to screen.

Well, comic book freaks can take a breather, as another sci-fi fantasy hits the big screen, this time in the long-awaited, highly-anticipated, it-better-be-good X-Men.

Without too much regret, I can say that X-Men will be palatable to fans and newbies alike. It's not a great film, but it will probably follow the arc of the Superman and Batman movies -- tons of sequels of variable quality until an abrupt and dismal end a decade later.

Well, comic book freaks can take a breather, as another sci-fi fantasy hits the big screen, this time in the long-awaited, highly-anticipated, it-better-be-good X-Men.

Without too much regret, I can say that X-Men will be palatable to fans and newbies alike. It's not a great film, but it will probably follow the arc of the Superman and Batman movies -- tons of sequels of variable quality until an abrupt and dismal end a decade later.

Months before The Hulk director Ang Lee announced he'd rely solely on CGI to create his colossal star, fanboys from Portland to Poughkeepsie worried about how the not-so-jolly green giant would look on screen. Early trailers fuelled speculation that Hulk would resemble Shrek, which made dedicated Hulk-a-maniacs very angry. And as we know, you wouldn't like them when they're angry.

In the words of the immortal Public Enemy, don't believe the hype. Nothing you've seen does Lee's finished product justice. For the most part, the Hulk looks fantastic. He has texture, and he certainly has mass. There's the occasional slippage to video game-quality graphics, but the aftermath of Hulk's actions, the devastation left in his wake, convince us of his existence. Until you've seen the Hulk smash a tank and wrestle a helicopter in mid-air, you ain't seen nothing.

The Rock: One name symbolizes everything that can be defined as the stereotypical American male. Why? He's a gruff, tough-as-nails, merciless, and sexually magnetic savior of the free world. And he's huge on TV. And sure enough, The Scorpion King - the latest installment in the mind-numbing, insanely profitable Mummy series - is pure trash. Starring the aforementioned WWF superstar, The Scorpion King is filmmaking at its worst.

The Scorpion King ably rehashes the plots of the variety of other, better films including Gladiator, the Indiana Jones series, Flash Gordon, Beastmaster, and even The Goonies. Set 5,000 years ago, a warlord named Memnon (Steven Brand), acting on crazed Napoleonic urges, ravages the land and bends its people into totalitarian rule. With the aid of a seer who foretells the future, Memnon stands invincible against all aggressors.